The path twisted downward, lit by flickering blue veins in the stone. Every flicker was like a heartbeat, thudding softly in the silence that had wrapped itself around Meera and Aarav like a second skin. The air had grown cooler now—not just in temperature, but in spirit. It was the kind of coolness that clung to bones, the kind that made you pause and breathe deeper, slower. The walls glistened faintly, like they remembered rain, though there was no water here. Only the shimmer of light pulsing through ancient stone.

They moved slowly, side by side, each step echoing faintly like a forgotten prayer. Neither of them spoke for a long time. There was no need. Every creak of boot against stone, every quiet breath, felt louder in the stillness. Something about the descent demanded reverence, and they gave it without thinking.